


Ikanaide (Don't Go)

by drowninginchamomiletea



Category: Persona 4
Genre: I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11234919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninginchamomiletea/pseuds/drowninginchamomiletea
Summary: I'll understand if you hate me after this.





	1. Deaf

**Author's Note:**

> So. Uh. This is not narrative. It is a thing where I thought, "hey, what if naoto or kanji died?" and made the mistake(?) of acting on it.
> 
> Please be advised that this may just end up being me ripping your heart out and tearing it in two. For no particular reason. 
> 
> Travel guide pamphlet for hell:  
> Chapter 1: Deaf  
> BONUS PAIN! Chapter 2: Take the Fall  
> Chapter 3: Numb  
> BONUS PAIN! Chapter 4: Take Flight  
> Chapter 5: Alone  
> Chapter 6: Gone
> 
> *revvs up tour bus*  
> *peppy tour guide voice*  
> Alrighty, folks! How're y'all doin' on this fine day in Kannao Hell? We have a strong major character death front moving in, bringing with it some heavy tearstorms, so keep those archive warning filters CLOSED! Watch out for sudden bouts of stunned grief, often accompanied by silence or unresponsiveness! If this happens to you or a loved one, hold their hand and wait it out. And remember, Drowninginchamomiletea Tourism is not responsible for any lost or stolen happiness, emotional injury, mental scarring, or death inside. Thank you for choosing DICT Tourism, and enjoy the tour!

She blinked. That's all it took. Just a blink. Just a lowering of the eyelids, a flickering of the lashes, a sickening  _crack_ ing  _crunch._

She didn't even register it at first; she just stared past the corner she stood on, shocked and indignant, glaring after the car as it continued barreling through Inaba and out of sight. 

Then she turned. 

She had opened her mouth to address her friend, to start a discussion about traffic law, but he had vanished.

She didn't have to search far to find him.

She knew him to be powerful, physically and emotionally. Yet, he had the gentlest, most hesitant and cautious hands she'd ever known. If someone hurt or bullied anyone he loved, those hands could strangle, strike, and restrain. He'd never shown her anything but respect, sensitivity, and empathy, however. It showed in small acts such as delicately cupping her hand in between both of his as though it were a precious treasure, while begging her to confide in him, not to struggle alone. Or apprehensively, cautiously taking her hands in his, delicately stroking the backs of her hands with his thumbs, mumbling softly that she shouldn't work so much; "'s bad for ya... A-an' I care 'bout you bein' healthy an' happy an'... An' all tha'."

They were the hands she'd held to find strength not only in battle against shadows, but during hardships in this worid. 

That meant that it dealt an ever worse blow to see those hands curled up, hanging from crooked, broken arms and surrounded by rivers of blood on the street. 

A balloon rapidly inflated in her throat, going too quickly to make any sound, continuing to grow, choking her, suffocating her, bringing up the taste of bile in her saliva, until it POPPED and her scream shattered the whole street, the chill air itself crumbling into shards by her hysterics and grief.

She sobbed his name, screeching to the town to beg for help, a hospital, police, anyone, but no one answered; they just stood as they were, watching her clutch his bloody, broken form, his blood soaking into her jacket and shirt collar, her hair, cap, and slacks, but she neither noticed nor cared. Soon there were other calls, other cries of fear and pain. 

~~"Naoto? Wha—KANJI!! KANJI, _NO! NOOO!!! KANJIII!!!!_ " ~~

~~"Naoto-kun, what's going o—KANJI!! OH MY G— _NO!"_~~

~~"Naoto, the hell i—Is that _Kanji!?_ HOLY—! _WHAT!?!"_~~

She couldn't hear anything.

She was deaf to the shouts of others who'd come after hearing her outburst. She heard only blood rushing through her head. She collapsed down from her knees to sit splay-legged, holding the tall boy around his upper arms and burying her face in his chest. She cried his name over and over again, in a vain wish that he'd respond. A kind, low, familiar voice spoke, unintelligible behind the rush. A hand laid itself on her shoulder, and she smelled coffee and cigarettes.  _No!_ She drew the boy's jacket up, over her head. It smelled comforting, of leather and sandalwood and faintly of nutmeg.  _I just want to be with him, where it smells like him. Dojima... Leave me be..._

She suddenly registered that she heard no heartbeat, and the pain hit her again, full force, driving her once again to plead to the heavens, the air from deepest in her lungs tearing from her throat in one last plea to the gods.

" _KANJI,_ **_NO!!!_** No, no, _no,_ he  _can't be gone,_ oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

"Alright, kid, hup you get," Dojima said gently, picking her up as he would a child. Tatsumi's jacket slid out from under him; the girl still clung to it like a lifeline.  _I'll make sure she can keep that._

She didn't hear Dojima's voice, but she struggled to get back to the boy's body, still maintaining a deathgrip on his jacket. 

"Kanji! KANJI!! No, let me—Dojima,  _please,_ I—No!! C'mon, let me down, let me go to him— _KANJI!!"_

Dojima kept walking, trying to soothe her with a combination of fatherly concern and police professionalism that felt strange in his mouth. 

Unsure where to bring the now shell-shocked young detective, he found himself walking home. He opened the door with his foot. Yu immediately stood, looking anxious.

"Is everything okay? What happ—is that  _Naoto!?"_  

Dojima deposited her on the couch and wrapped her in poor Tatsumi's jacket, before pulling a blanket off the shelf above to spread over her legs. 

"N-Naoto-neechan...?"

"Nanako... Please go play in your room for a little while, alright, sweetheart?" 

"Okay, Daddy." Nanako complied, glancing uneasily at Yu, who smiled reassuringly. She vanished upstairs moments later, and Yu found himself sitting protectively close beside his vacant friend. 

"What the  _fuck_ happened!? I had to turn up the TV so Nanako couldn't hear all the screaming from over there!"

"Thanks for that," Dojima said gruffly, nodding to his nephew.

"But... Naoto, what... Why is she so... What  _happened?"_ He finally repeated, hovering next to her with an air of upset and concern. 

Dojima's eyes flickered to the cell phone in Yu's pocket, up to her, and finally into his nephew's grey eyes.

"Tatsumi's dead," he said softly. "Car was speeding down the main drag, cut across the corner where him and her were walking, and..." He grimaced and shook his head. "She was  _right there._ Witnesses say she looked after the car for a moment, then turned around to say something to him. When she saw he wasn't there, she started looking around, confused. Well... It didn't take her long to find him." He gestured helplessly at her. "Started stumbling over to him, fell to her knees, and let loose the loudest noise most of these folks'd ever heard. Held him against her, hugging him tight as anything, screaming for help. That was... When we got a call down at the station reporting a traffic infraction. I was just passing through the lobby and heard their names. I asked what it was, nearly passed out, and yelled at the guy that I was on it, and to send medical backup. Ran right on back out and across town. By the time I got there... There was nothing anyone could've done. She was collapsed over him, sobbing into his shirt and crying his name. I just... For a good five minutes, I just stood there. Some of your friends who'd heard the scream and come running were on their knees nearby, crying or just... Shocked. Satonaka, Kujikawa, and Hanamura, I think." Dojima paused and Yu swallowed, putting a gentle arm around her and taking out his phone, setting it on the table. Dojima continued. 

"Well, I... All I could think was that I couldn't just leave the kid there clinging to a dead body, so I went over and tried to talk to her. I'm not... Sure she  _heard_ me, but she did recognize me somehow."

"Coffee and cigarettes," Yu said quietly.

"What?"

"You smell like coffee and cigarettes," he clarified. "That's probably how she recognized you."

"...huh. I, uh... Never really thought I had a  _scent_ before."

"Everyone does. Yosuke smells like cheap cologne and Junes-brand shampoo."

"Humh. Well, back to the point..." Dojima shook his head again. "Soon as I knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder, she shouted and pulled the kid's jacket over her head on his chest. All of a sudden she tore her face from his chest and screamed his name and just... _Begged_ for him not to really be gone. Finally I decided to just scoop her up and take her somewhere else, but she's so sewn onto that jacket, it just came with her when I picked her up."

Yu's free hand was over his mouth, and he looked deeply saddened.

"So she did... She just wanted to stay surrounded by Tatsumi's scent. I think it... Makes her feel safe.  _He_ makes her feel safe. The two of them cared about each other more than anything else, but neither one  _really_ knew the other's feelings."

"Oh, jesus," Dojima muttered. "That explains why she's been clinging onto that jacket like it's a security blanket."

Yu found himself sniffling, tightening his grip on his teammate—really for his own sake more than hers—and getting into a bout of logorrhea.

"She loves him  _so much_ , Dojima, I'm serious. They put their lives on the line for each other so often last year it's not even funny. Literally almost  _daily_ at some points. And he had a hopeless crush on her from the moment he met her—yes, he still thought she was male at that point and that's what started the whole mess with his shadow because he's always been bullied for liking girly stuff and this was just the last straw, he was so confused about his sexuality and he was so stupid in love with the new detective in town. And then  _she_ disappeared and he was furious with me in those weeks that we didn't go to get her sooner, she could be getting tortured in there, we were all worried but he wouldn't  _shut up_ about her, and when we finally went in he was the one leading the charge, and he was the one to carry her out when we were done, and he held onto her so gently and yet protectively like she was a treasure he had to get home safely. He was the one bringing her his home cooking near daily while she was recovering. And after, when they started to relax around each other, I think that's when she started to like him too, and they were such a  _perfect damn pair_ because they both struggle socially and they both have gender and sexuality issues and they were working through it  _together_ and oh my god, he's _gone!_ What is she going to do with herself, she's going to feel so  _lost_ —" His volume and pitch were turned upwards and he was on the brink of crying; he could feel the fiery stinging and burning of tears filling his eyes.

"Yu." Dojima put a hand on his nephew's shoulder; Yu was barely keeping in the tears. "Take a breath. For now, just... Just keep her safe. Call all your friends here. They'll be standing around town, not knowing what to do. I'll... I'll go get a few boxes of tissues. I think I'll send Nanako to daycare." 

Yu bit his lip, squeezing her with his arm and reaching for his phone. Dojima returned with five boxes of tissues.

He decided to just shoot a message to the team chat. His fingers shook and he could barely feel himself tapping each character.

> Yu: my place asap

He tapped send, then set his phone face up on the table. He didn't expect any responses. The others would just hear their text tone for him and let muscle memory drag them here. He looked up as Dojima led his daughter out. 

"Seeya, big bro! Make sure Naoto-neechan gets better!" She chirped, smiling at the two on the couch. His smile felt robotic and separate from his face.

"Mhm, Nanako. Have fun," he said, trying hard to sound happy. By some miracle, he managed to fool her. He hoped.

He heard the door shut, and shortly after he heard Dojima's car start up and pull away. Now all he could do was wait for everyone to get there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I'm really proud of this bit:  
>  _A balloon rapidly inflated in her throat, going too quickly to make any sound, continuing to grow, choking her, suffocating her, bringing up the taste of bile in her saliva, until it POPPED and her scream shattered the whole street, the chill air itself crumbling into shards by her hysterics and grief._


	2. BONUS CHAPTER - Take the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanji dies in front of Naoto. Again. Just in a different way this time.  
> I hate myself for this.

Kanji strode close behind Naoto as she moved calmly and confidently to the indicated scene of the most recent in a string of prominent hit-and-runs.

He was glad that Naoto had begun inviting him along on her investigations; being able to watch over her personally put his mind at ease. Before, when she'd just disappear for days or weeks at a time, too busy to answer calls or texts that weren't pertinent to her work, he'd worry himself sick, on some occasions literally.

After that first three-day case where she'd asked him along "for solace in companionship," she commented that she'd felt "exceptionally more at ease" with him at her side. He took that to mean that although she didn't want to directly admit that her work could be lonely and frightening on occasion, his presence made her feel better.

So, "on the condition that there be no interference with schoolwork," she'd asked him to tag along as often as possible. He was more than happy to accept. 

"Detective Shirogane? I'm Officer Burusu. It's good to meet you."

"Indeed, and you. May I see the report? I'd also like to do my own investigation of the scene."

The lanky, olive-skinned police officer hesitated for just a moment. One of the things Kanji didn't like about accompanying Naoto was seeing all the sexist and ageist bullshit she had to deal with. He rolled his shoulders, preparing to direct a frightening glower at Burusu, but before he got to it, the uniformed man smiled and handed Naoto the carbon copy of the crime scene report he'd just written. Naoto gave him a nod of thanks, ducked under the police tape, and got to work.

"She your girl?"

Kanji jumped, looking around, wide-eyed, at Burusu.

"N-n-no!! We're just... Real great friends, s'all."

"But you love her," Burusu said softly. Kanji wheeled around, scowling, but stopped when he saw the kind, understanding smile on the officer's face. "I can tell, the way you look at her when she speaks and the way you're always just behind her, and how quickly you fall in step with her when you walk. You two are very, very close, I at least know that."

Kanji looked at the ground, though the comments made him happy and proud.

"Y-yeah, we've... Been through a lot together. An'—an' yeah, I d-do l-lov—like 'er. A lot." 

"I think she deserves you, but if you're not certain she feels the same way, I can at least say this for sure: she'd trust you with her life. She does, actually, every day."

"How d'ya know that?" Kanji mumbled, kicking at some gravel beside a patch of dirt with a small tree and bushes.

Burusu smiled up at him.

"It's obvious when the two of you are walking. You walk just behind her and slightly to the left, no? And you, frankly, take a rather protective posture around her head, back and left side. The left side of the back is frequently the target of gunmen, because it lets them aim for the heart without being seen. And, heh, assassins throughout history have had a bit of a _habit_ for aiming for the back of the head. Now Kid Shirogane's getting more and more famous among civilians, and more and more _in_ famous among organized crime circles... Well, I'll just say there's a good chance you've saved her life a good few times without even realizing it."

Kanji stood, wide-eyed, looking between Burusu and Naoto a few times. He glanced down at his hands before resting his gaze on Naoto. A faint smile stole its way onto his lips as he watched her glowing with energy as she searched the scene, fully in her element. 

Burusu couldn't help but chuckle. He was right; the boy was smitten with the small detective. 

####  _"NAOTO!!"_

Before he even registered that he'd heard the gunshot, Kanji was already over the police tape and halfway across the crime scene. He dove for Naoto as she looked up in response to the sound, and her frown quickly changed to surprise when she saw him. His arms wrapped themselves tightly around her. The side of his neck hurt dully and he panted, gasping for breath. He assumed the wind had been knocked out of him, based on how little his gasping seemed to do. 

"Tha'was... Close... Damn, Naoto, y'... Y'shoulla tol' me there's... Folks after yer hide... I coulda been... Doin' more... All'is time..." He coughed and looked down at her. Her face was horror-stricken and pale as a ghost. He frowned. "Y'okay?" 

"Kanji... Oh, my god, Kanji..." There were tears sliding across her temples and into her hair, and she raised a hand to his neck. "You... Got shot... You took the bullet? Oh, my god, Kanji, it hit your jugular!" She glanced over to see Burusu already speaking frantically into his phone, but she knew there was no chance. She had seen this before. They were too deep in the city slums. Even if she stemmed the blood, there was no way an ambulance would make it on time. All she could do was cry and hold his face in her hands until he passed out.

"What're..." He blinked several times, and she rolled them over, laid him down, and sat cross-legged beside his shoulder. She ripped off her jacket sleeve and tied it snugly—not tightly—around his neck, the knot sitting right over his punctured jugular vein. The blue fabric rapidly turned black with blood.  _Gods, please, just give him a little more time..._

She rested her forehead on his, so her lips were mere centimeters from his ear.

"Kanji."

"Mn?"

"You... You're not going to make it."

"Make wha'?"

"You won't survive this," she whispered. The tears were coming faster now, soaking through his dark hair. He sighed, his breath fighting him.

"Y'know, I always dreamed'a doin' this. Layin' 'ere, jus' whisperin' inneachother's ears." He laughed wheezily. "Guess tha'll never happ'n now. Thanks fer lettin' me have this b'fore I die, Naoto."

She breathed deeply for several moments.

"I hope the sniper will try again. And... And hit me."

Kanji tried and failed to snap back up to a sitting position. Nevertheless, his motion forced Naoto to sit up. He propped himself up with one hand and used the other to grip her shoulder while he looked at her right in the eyes.

"Don' you  _ever_ say tha'gain!" He coughed, trying to growl. "I swear, Naoto, sometimes you just..." His expression softened and he shook his head gently. He laid back down, and the hand on her shoulder moved to ever so gently cup one side of her jaw. His thumb ran across her cheek delicately, swiping away her tears. "Nah... I c'never hate you for long. I love ya too much."

It felt like a chill wave ran over her whole body, slowing her tears. She closed her eyes, not resisting as he continued caressing her cheek with the side of his thumb.

"Heh. Never'xpected to confess t'ya like this. I come up with a lotta diff'rnt scenes, but this wasn' one of 'em."

She sighed, her breath shaking, and a new wave of tears came. _Why!? Why_ now?! _Why couldn't you have told me when it would hurt a little less?_

"Hey now, don' cry," he said softly. "Ain' gone yet, am I?" She tried to smile but her muscles would not cooperate; her mouth twitched and her chin wrinkled, her throat tightened up. The flow of tears grew heavier still. 

His hand moved to the back of her head, his index finger rubbing in small circles over the nape of her neck. He pushed himself back up and leaned in, gently pulling her towards him, to lean his brow against hers. 

"Naoto," he whispered, "please, ya gotta catch the killer for me. Fer everybody. Do what you do best. Don' forget me, an' don' ever feel lonely 'r scared. Cause 'm righ' there to take the fall for ya."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, before opening them and grinning. 

"Gettin' dizzy." Her hands crept up and clasped behind his back, steadying him. He tipped his chin up a little, so that they were nose-to-nose. He blinked and stared into her eyes at the sapphires that gazed back. It was getting harder and harder to speak or even think, but he  _had_ to make his one final request.

"N-Naoto, will ya..."  _Dammit, this is hard enough to say even without bad blood loss!_ "W-w-will ya... K... Kiss me?" His eyes burned with tears of embarrassment, and _oh god what a stupid thing to say she's going to drop you to die alone, you're such a dumb fuck Kanji Tatsu—_ her eyes fluttered closed, she gave a tiny sigh, and her head tilted gently to the right. For a second she paused, her lips still and relaxed against his, her nose barely resting on his cheek and her arms strong around him.

"If you wish to... Hold me with both arms... I can support you..." She barely breathed the words against his lips, as though she was passing along a secret. After a moment of hesitation, Kanji slowly lifted his arm up from beneath him. He grunted as his oxygen-deprived muscles gave out almost immediately, unable to support him, and flung his arm around her, grasping her by the waist. She unclasped her hands and pulled him closer to support him better. Now he was looking down at her. He grinned weakly, and keeping his eyes trained on hers to make sure it was okay, cautiously leaned down with his head tilted to the right. When he felt his lips touch hers, it was his turn to pause, swimming through his swampy thoughts. 

"Y'... Y'sure yer... Okay... Wi'this? Cause... I don' wanna if... If you don'."

She smiled softly, eyes shining and fat tears sliding down from them. 

"You're such a gentleman. I don't believe there's anyone to whom I'd rather give my first kiss than you, Kanji Tatsumi."

"Y'... Y'sure?"

"Yes." Her eyes floated closed and she added, "please... We don't have much time." 

After another sluggish heartbeat, he gently moved in to kiss her. His strong, yet unbearably kind touch buzzed at the back of her head, the tailor's fingers delicately twirling, twisting, and stroking small locks of her hair. She pulled him closer still, and he did her, so they were right up against one another. He barely registered her scent: coffee and sweet citrus, underlaid with something that reminded him of summers on the Samegawa... Meanwhile, she sighed contentedly against his lips, surrounded by a wreath of leather, sandalwood, and something else that brought to mind home cooked meals and smiling faces around the kotatsu.

The kiss only lasted perhaps five seconds, but when they broke apart, both knew they'd never forget it.

Kanji buried his eyes in Naoto's shoulder.

"'h'nks..."

"Kanji..."

"'eah...?"

She rested her face in his hair and breathed in his scent.

"I... L... Love you."

"...know..."

"Please... Don't go..."

He sighed and snuggled against her.

"'S lemm' sleep... m tire'... Col'..."

She pulled open the six snaps on the front of her coat and slipped her arms out, then draped it over his shoulders.

"...too nice t'me..."

Her whole body suddenly shook violently, wracked with sobs. 

"N-no, Kanji... P-please, I n-need you here, w-with b-b-m-me! I lo-love you, Kanji T-Tatsumi! Please, no, no, no, n-no, no, _no_ , d-don-n't g-go, oh, p-please, I'm b-b-beggi-ing you..."

"...no 'dea...happy I am...hear'at..."

"Pleas-se..."

"...ove you...orever...nao...o...hir...ga...ne..."

"I'll l-love you f-forev-ver, K-Kanji Tatsumi," she responded. She held him tightly, crying her heart out, as he drifted down into eternity.


	3. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanji can't deal. He just can't. Help him. Please. 
> 
> Why have I done this to him.
> 
> Why have I hurt Naoto so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a little less than a month after ch. 2, in a sort of AU where Kanji didn't die and the kiss never happened.
> 
> TW for implied rape.

"S'what're we doin' here again?"

"A private commission. This client's spouse disappeared three weeks ago. I am to find, quote: 'as much as possible, whether it be information, my wife, her body, any suspect, dead or alive—anything.'" Kanji noticed that Naoto's voice seemed to tighten slightly just before the word 'wife.'  _There's somethin' yer not tellin' me. We weren' gonna keep no more secrets, 'member? Talk t'me, Naoto!_

"Arigh'. We almost there?" He glanced down to find her throwing him a frown before she looked back at the path ahead.

"Yes, Kanji-kun. Why do you continue to inquire as to the relative distance to our destination?"

He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. _B'cause I'd rather anything happen than you gettin' hurt._

"Jus'... Jus' worried, walkin' in the open like this, y'know. Wanna know how much time till we c'n relax."

He looked down at the three-inch gap between his abdomen and her left arm. They walked in the same formation as always, with him just behind her and to the left. He'd been more intentional about it ever since his conversation with Officer Burusu and what had happened immediately afterwards. The freshly healed scar on his neck was the proverbial red string around his finger to remind him of his promises; every time he caught a glimpse of it in the mirror or brushed against it when he grabbed the back of his neck, he heard Burusu's words, _"n_ _ow Kid Shirogane's getting infamous... There's a good chance you've saved her life without realizing it."_

Her expression had become twisted with an odd mixture of pride and regret.

"Wassat look for?"

Her face immediately went poker once again.

"I fear I do not understand."  _Lie. Even I c'n tell, Detective Naoto._

He balled his hands into fists and flexed his wrists frustratedly.  _Godammit!! I gotta know wha's gotcha so tied up._

"Ergh! I hate it when yeh do this! Jus' tell me wha's wrong, dammit! Don' just pretend I didn' catch ya showin' emotion! 'Snot like it's somethin' ta be ashamed of, anyways!" 

"I cannot—" Naoto stopped short, then tried again, switching to the former line of inquiry.

"I am always hesitant to have to expose people to my world. To all of this..." She made a sweeping gesture. "...the death, the danger, the paranoia. And... I fear for scars that may be left on your mind due to your assisting with my work."

He fumbled around for the right words for a moment before finally finally spitting out the most straightforward and honest response he could think of. 

"I-I just wanna protect you, is all!"

 _FUCK. That was NOT the righ' thing ta say, Tatsumi. Ge' ready fer a hardcore beatdown from a tiny detective with a head fulla steam ta let off. Shit, gotta keep talkin' ta keep 'er at bay._ His head dropped and he stared interestedly at an ant making its way over his shoe.

"I know yer, like... Real strong, an' smart, an' you c'n protect yerself, b't... I d'nno." He raised his chin to look into cold aquamarine eyes, and despite her intimidating gaze, he suddenly felt defiant. "Yer just so damn reckless sometimes, y'know!? An' it makes me so mad cause ya don' think bout how what ya do makes yer friends feel! Ya think I was the only one tha' worried about ya on these cases b'fore I started comin' with ya!? I jus'—" He broke off, reaching the end of the train of thought, trying to draw a conclusion. "—jus' wanna make sure, uh'kay? Jus'... On... Fer ev'ryone, I'm jus' tryin' ta make sure nothin' bad happens to ya. I promised them, I promised myself, an' I'm promisin' you." 

She said nothing for a good 30 seconds, during which Kanji prayed for his life. Eventually, though, she simply turned and continued to move towards their destination. He followed, resuming his silent monologue as he walked, featuring him cussing himself out, apologizing profusely for this rough-cut, impulsive behavior, praying like crazy that he stay in Naoto's good books, and an impressive variety of other exercises in ridiculously anxious overthinking.

This mental pain party was crashed when Naoto spoke again, addressing him.

"Tatsumi-sa—" She hesitated. She _knew_ he hated her calling him that. He grimaced.  _'Ere we go..._

"...er, Tatsumi-chan?" She submitted. His response was a frown. She thought for a moment. "Kanji... Kanji-san? Tatsumi-kun? Erm, just Tatsu—" 

"Whyya gotta talk to me like we're strangers all the time?" Kanji had stopped moving his feet and stood glaring at the girl. This conversation had happened three times now!  _Why can'tcha just call me Kanji an' have done widdit once'n fer all?!_ She lowered her voice and glanced around for eavesdroppers, pulling them to the side of the walk.

"It would not do for potentially dangerous involved parties to become privy to the fact that we are more than simple coworkers. If they did, then it would be all too easy for them to use our closeness against us. I have already been involved in four hostage situations throughout my career, and I do not wish to add to that number. Nor do I wish for your personal safety to be imperiled."

She scanned their surroundings again before continuing. 

" _Therefore,_ you will address me as Shirogane-san, and I you as... Tatsumi-kun. It is a measure of professionalism and security by which I have always abided and will continue to abide. I will not stand for exceptions on a basis of, of... _Discomfort_ due to... Social... Unimportant, ill-advised, impractical, Unreasonable— _Expectations of propriety!_ It is—It is—" Her voice had started as a low hiss to prevent eavesdroppers, but as she spoke it quickly rose in pitch, speed, and volume. She huffed through her nose and scuffed her shoe against the concrete. She ground her teeth audibly.

Eventually, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The poker face seemed to come to her more naturally than breathing at this point. She opened her eyes and started speaking again, in her familiar calm, level, low-pitched tone.

"In any case. We have reached the estate of my client. I must meet with him and discuss various related topics. In addition, this is the first location I chose for my physical investigation should I reach an agreement with him on pricing. You recall standard etiquette for these places?"

Kanji grunted and shrugged.

"Keep quiet, follow you, an' do what I'm told. 'S no different from school."

Something flickered nigh imperceptibly across her face—but, of all people, Kanji would always be the one to notice these things in the detective. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly in reasponse, but he couldn't tell if she noticed.

She nodded and waved him over to her side. She spun around and pressed the doorbell button beside the ornate iron gate. A flat, bored-sounding voice soon returned her call.

_«Yes, yes, Otome residence, please state your business...»_

"Detective Shirogane Naoto. I am here for the appointment Otome-san requested I take to discuss his wife. I am accompanied by my assistant, Tatsumi Kanji."

_«Ah, yes, yes, one moment please... If you would, please head directly to the main entrance, from where you will be escorted to Otome-sama's office... Thank you...»_

The gates squeaked softly as they swung open. As soon as they could pass through, Naoto marched through with Kanji close behind. Watching her, he saw her brain already beginning to light up like a city, gears of logic turning and rivers of thought raging while she took in the details of their surroundings. She muttered to herself as they walked, sorting through inferences and conclusions. Soon, she pulled out a small reporter-style notepad and began scribbling in at as she mumbled.

"Well groomed lawn, very well-maintained landscaping overall... Not excessively lavish, so he's not _extremely_ wealthy... Perhaps an income around ¥8,500,000 per year? A banker? Relatively successful businessman? Lawyer? Doctor? Or is he supplementing his income illegally? I'll have to do some digging around... Shouldn't take too long... Humm... And..."

They reached the front steps, where a man waited for them. As the teens scuffed clean the soles of their shoes, the man held his arm in front of him and leaned forward in a slight bow. Kanji returned the gesture, and Naoto nodded distractedly, ink still flying. The man—a butler?—remained where he was, arm in a defensive position in front of him and looking at Kanji expectantly. 

"Uh," he said, utterly lost. 

"He's—no, no... Disappearance linked to husband's occupation...income... Personal matters..." She trailed off, muttering and scratching away. The two men waited, and just as Kanji was about to prompt her again, she snapped her book closed and stowed it and her pen away in her jacket pocket.

"He is offering to take our coats," Naoto said. She nodded respectfully and tipped her cap to the man. "The offer is much appreciated. However, I believe Tatsumi-s—kun and myself would both prefer to keep our jackets. Now, if we could be along to Otome-san's offices...? Promptly, if you please."

The man lowered his arm. He opened one of the doors at the entrance way and bowed more deeply, gesturing down the hall to their left. 

"Right this way, please, good sirs. Otome-sama's office is the second-to-last door on the right."

Naoto set off swiftly and abruptly down the light-filled hallway, and Kanji stumbled to stay in position behind her. The butler, if that's what he was, followed at a respectful distance. It made Kanji deeply uncomfortable to know they were being tailed, however innocent it was. 

The hallway was so bright because of the large picture windows lining the left side. He appreciated the sweet early summer breeze floating in from an open window as they passed it. The right side had only doors. The floor was polished hardwood, so Naoto's boots made sharp  _tapat-tapat-tapat_ sounds against it as she marched along at speed. 

As they walked, Kanji thought. Something about the exchange between his...  _Friend, crush, partner, love, vision of perfection, dream, sweetheart, angel—FUCK! I'm doing it again, god fucking dammit!_ Between  NAOTO and the butler! Something about the exchange had seemed odd!

 _She didn' correct him,_ he realized. She had accepted the butler's misgendering of her without a word and taken it in stride. She... _Actin' like 'er Shadow never happened._ Since her kidnapping/Shadow/rescue debacle had happened, she had improved greatly on social and emotional fronts, as well as with accepting her age and height. However, Kanji couldn't help but notice that she had never stopped binding. Nothing had ever really made the gender issue relevant, so it just... Never really got discussed. Maybe he'd ask her about it at the hotel that night.

Or—fuck, no, he'd never even have half the guts to bring up anything of the sort.

They reached the door mentioned to them, and Naoto rapped three times. A voice could be heard from within.

"Enter!"

Naoto opened the door. 

"Ah! The young man Shirogane, I presume?"

"It is a pleasure. And my partner, Tatsumi-kun."

Kanji nodded in greeting. Otome frowned the instant his eyes alighted upon him. 

"Is'ere a problem?" Kanji growled. Otome looked conflicted, angry—afraid? When he heard Kanji's question, however, he hastily plastered an apologetic, sad smile onto his face. 

"Yes, well. My apologies. It is just, you remind me so of my son. He died in an accident three years ago, and... Oh, my, if—If you would—Wait outside the door while we meet? It would be—it is difficult to have you in the room. I am sorry..." The man dramatically covered his eyes and sniffed. 

"I... I dunno..." Kanji wavered, deferring to Naoto. She looked him in the eye and nodded. Her expression said clearly that she saw his suspicious behavior.  _'I can handle this,'_ her eyes said.  _'Leave it to me. I'm trusting you to step in if things get out of hand.'_ He uneasily returned the nod and backed out, keeping his eyes on Otome. The door snapped shut after him and he heard a soft  _click_ over the man's voice.  _Why lock the door...?_

It happened very quickly. Otome shouted, there was a breaking of glass and a loud _thud,_ and Naoto yelled.

"Stand down!" She sounded calm, controlled. _Got her gun out,_ he thought. But he waited, and heard no clicking handcuffs. Her voice returned, slightly less calm. 

"Stand down, sir!"

Another moment. 

_"Sir!"_

A shot rang out from what he could only pray was Naoto's gun, and there were the sounds of a scuffle. Finally a voice lower than Otome's growled three dreadful words.

_"Got you, bitch."_

Naoto shouted at the top of her lungs, and Kanji came to his senses and started pounding on the door.

"NAOTO! NAOTO, WHAT'S GOIN' ON!? ARE YOU OKAY!?"

_"HE'S GOT ME! OTOME IS—"_

"SHUT UP, BITCH! OTOME'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE! I'm here for  _you!_  And stop fucking _hitting me!_ " There was another, smaller  _thud_ and Kanji couldn't hear any more movement.

 _"NO!_ DON'T BELIEVE HIM, KANJI, HE'S—" She was forcefully cut off, like she'd been gagged. 

_"_ _NAOTO!!"_

"It's too bad... If you hadn't brought your boyfriend, this'd have been much easier."

Kanji froze, eyes wide. He had heard something he'd never heard before, and that he'd never even imagined at all, let alone imagining ever hearing it.

It was Naoto, screaming. Raw panic tearing itself from her throat and through her gag.

She may always be expecting an attack, on some level.

But whatever was happening now, she'd never expected it in the least.

He looked around desperately, but no one was in sight. The butler was gone. He had no options. 

Except...

He stepped back and took a deep breath in and out, readying himself. He braced all the muscles in his upper body before charging at the door and attacking it with everything he had. His adrenaline was fueled by Naoto's screams of what might have been pain or fear, he didn't want to know. It was taking way too damn long, but he kept slamming and punching and kicking away at the door, over and over and over and over and over. He lost track of time, just focusing all his mental and physical energy against that  _god damn door._

Finally,  _finally,_ when he backed up all the way and took a screaming leap into the door, it fell and he went flying into to room, looking around and ready to throttle the first person her saw near Naoto.

He saw Otome crouched over her with a knife in his hand, blood dripping from the blade. He saw Naoto, mostly conscious, blood pooled for feet around her, her—holy  _shit—_ her pants and underwear down... 

Kanji moved forward, ready to  _kill_ this man. He jumped, landing a terrible blow on Otome's left temple before the other man could do much more than begin to stand up. He went flying to the side and fell unconsciously to the floor. His knife clattered down as it hit the hardwood near the wall.

Kanji dropped to his knees beside Naoto, feeling helpless for what to do. He lowered his shaking hands, not knowing what to do with them, and quickly felt tears beginning in full force.

"N-Naoto, I—I can'—I-I don'—H-h-holy shit, Naoto, y-yer—N-n- _no..."_ Eventually he went to pull up her underwear and pants, looking in another direction for the former. His hands were still shaking terribly. She was staring blankly at the ceiling. Her lips moved but barely a breath came out.

"W-what?"

"Ka... Ji..."

He was numb to everything but her. He couldn't feel the tears on his face or the shaking of his hands or the breeze from the broken window. He only heard her, only felt her, only saw her. 

"Yeah?"

She swallowed.

"Kanji... P...ease..."

"Wha', Naoto, tell me!"

"Kanji... Hol... Me..." She took a heaving, labored breath. "Don' wan... Die... 'lone..."

He didn't have to think. With trembling care, Kanji wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, rocking back and forth. 

"N-n-no, Naoto, no, no, no, you can't die now, I—I—" He turned his head so that his lips were up against her ear, her perfect, tiny, soft ear... 

"It... oka... Al...ea...y..." Her voice was quickly dissolving. 

"Naoto, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!!  _Don' die,_ Naoto!! Please!!"

She took a shallow sigh, and seemed heavy against him. 

His increasingly panicked and tearful shouts of her name yielded no more responses. 

He whispered one last thing into her ear before the paramedics were able to pry him off of her.

"I'll never forgive myself for breaking my promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIGURING OUT HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE TO DIE FROM ~5-10 STAB WOUNDS THROUGHOUT THE ABDOMEN AND ONE IN THE LUNG TAKES WAY MORE RESEARCH THAN I WOULD LIKE IT TO AND I KNOW WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY MORE THAN I EVER NEEDED OR WANTED TO
> 
> BUT DID I FIND OUT WHAT I NEEDED TO KNOW?
> 
> NO!


End file.
